


Hit Good

by KarmaYeti



Category: RWBY
Genre: 4000 words of absolute smut, F/F, RWBY Rock AU, Weiss is a scrawny punk princess, Yang is buff and golden-skinned and covered in tattoos, what's not to love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-06 03:48:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1843225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarmaYeti/pseuds/KarmaYeti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Weiss is trying to sleep while Ruby and Blake are off on their zen songwriting trip. Yang has odd drumming habits. Things escalate rather quickly. Part of the RWBY Rock AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hit Good

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr's Karmayeti.tumblr.com, just by the way. If you were, I dunno, interested or anything.

It was three in the morning.

It was three in the goddamn morning and Yang was still playing the drums.

At midnight, Weiss had just thought, _“oh, no big deal, really, she’ll have to stop in an hour, her arms will get tired eventually.”_

Weiss had apparently underestimated how much Yang’s five-minute morning weight lifts increased her endurance.

It was when the sound finally stopped and she heard someone padding over to the kitchen that Weiss sighed and shut her weary eyes. What she assumed was Yang setting the timer to the microwave felt like the sweetest sound next to the aggressive pounding that was Yang’s drumming style. When the microwave beeped, Weiss rubbed her eyes and sat up, suddenly the opposite of tired. She slipped her night robe on on her way out of her room and made her way to the kitchen.

Yang was already halfway through a pizza pocket, apparently unconcerned with how steam was practically billowing out from the part she had already bit into. Her free hand tapped a tattoo on the table and she read the label for the pizza pockets box as she ate. Her hair was tied into a messy ponytail; Weiss was pretty sure she had missed an entire lock of hair -or maybe the elastic just couldn’t quite contain the sheer volume of her hair.

When she heard the approaching footsteps and lifted her head to catch sight of Weiss, she coughed and nearly spat what was already in her mouth out.

“Weiss! Wow-- I thought you were-- I thought you were with Ruby and Blake!” Yang coughed and set her food down, wiped her hand on the front of her -stupidly tight, Weiss told herself- undershirt. “D’you… There’s one pizza pocket left, if you want it,” she added, offering some form of a peace treaty.

Weiss lifted a brow and crossed her arms. “I literally said goodnight to you,” she said.

Yang paused. “Did you really say goodnight?” She pursed her lips and looked down at her pizza pocket. “Are you sure you don’t--”

“No, I don’t want a pizza pocket, _Yang Xiao Long_. Do you even know what _time_ it is?”

“Sure I do,” Yang said, grinning, “It’s-- holy shit it’s three in the morning. I thought it was still midnight!”

Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose. “Could you explain to me exactly how you didn’t realize three hours passed since you started drumming?”

Yang leaned back in her seat and folded her hands on the table. “Well, you know how it is, you get in the zone, get all pumped,” she explained. “It’s like if you think five minutes have passed when really thirty have. You get that when you practice, don’t you?”

Weiss furrowed her brows. “No. I certainly do not. My time management skills are astounding,” she said, leaning on the counter.

“You have an internal clock or something? Like uh… Hey, have you ever seen Arrested Development? There’s this kid who has an unfailing internal clock, maybe you’re like him,” she said, picking up her pizza pocket again and scarfing it down. “Did your parents set a metronome next to you at sixty bpm while you slept? Was that a thing that happened?”

Weiss just rolled her eyes and turned on her heel.

“Oh, come on,” Yang said, chair skidding as she got onto her feet. “I know you think you’re royalty  but you don’t have to be such a drama queen.” She caught up with her easily. “Listen, how about I show you how it happened.”

Weiss stopped and turned around so suddenly Yang nearly collided with her. “ _You’d_ show me how to play the drums. You, who has no technical experience outside of your self-teachings,” she said slowly, brows still furrowed.

Yang rolled her eyes, a smile on her lips. “You don’t have to be taught to know how to _feel_ , Weiss.”

“I can feel just fine without you teaching me, thank you,” Weiss said. Even as she said it, Yang was tugging her to the next room, fingers curled around one of her wrists. Weiss was constantly astounded by how easily her fingers overlapped each other when they were around her wrists, and when Yang let go and the calluses on her palm rubbed at her skin, she was reminded of those, too.

Yang sat herself down on her stool and picked up her drumsticks -complete with the tacky flames stickers Ruby had gotten her for her birthday- then glanced over at Weiss. “C’mon. Sit in back of me, watch me play for a while. Then I can show you.” She motioned to her old stool, foam spilling from its ripped side.

“Fine. But only because I haven’t got much better to do,” she conceded, tightening her night robe around her and getting seated. Yang just grinned and hummed at her over her shoulder. The curve of her lips made Weiss’s stomach do backflips. She felt like a child in elementary school.

“Whatever makes you sleep at night, Your Majesty,” Yang said before she rolled her shoulders, cracked her neck, and stepped on the bass drum pedal.

“Poor word choice. Whatever you’re showing me here is the whole reason why I can’t sleep at night.”

Yang just laughed and twirled her drumsticks, the motion practiced and effortless. Her biceps flexed, the patterns tattooed to her skin shifting and sliding like live creatures. Weiss could see that the tendons in her wrists were in a similar state.

Yang hadn’t even started playing. Her mouth was already dry.

She sent her one last smile over her shoulder before she started playing an easy beat, easy on the snares, heavy on the bass drum. Her thigh flexed with every press of the pedal, and she almost got distracted by its motion until Yang sped up. She laughed, twirling her sticks and starting up a swing rhythm that Weiss had to struggle not tapping her foot to.

It took Weiss a moment to even realize when Yang had stopped playing, and when she did, Yang was grinning that stupid, dopey, charming grin of hers at her. “Like what you see?” She asked, setting her hands on her thighs and spinning around on her chair to face her.

Weiss rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up,” she said, though there was no malice in her words. Yang patted her lap and quirked a brow in her direction, and Weiss let out a resigned sigh and sat down on one of her thighs. Weiss reached over and tugged her ponytail free, and the taller woman let out a satisfied sigh and shook it out. “It looked like it was a trapped animal,” she mumbled, as Yang turned both of them around to face the drumset.

She handed the drumsticks to Weiss, who held them as though they were dangerous animals.

“Calm down there, they aren’t gonna bite you or anything,” Yang chided, rubbing her thumbs over the backs of her hands.

“I’m just afraid I’m going to catch their tackiness,” Weiss shot back, on the defensive. “Really, Yang? Flames?”

Yang just hummed, apparently uninterested in continuing their argument. She leaned against her, guiding her hands to the snare and the high hat. She nosed at her ear and said, “Try playing, c’mon. It’ll be fun.”

“Is that it? That’s all you’re teaching me?” Weiss demanded, starting to turn her head but deciding against it once she realized how close they were to each other.

“Hey, you’re the one who says drumming isn’t even a real instrument,” she answered, letting go of Weiss’s wrists. She brushed her hair away from the nape of her neck with one hand, stroked the back of her pierced ears. “You took your surface piercing out.”

“Oh. Yes. I had to take it out before it--” she let out a small gasp when Yang pressed her lips to her still sensitive neck, “--migrated,” she finished, rather lamely.

“They do that?” Yang asked, and Weiss knew she was doing that perplexed golden retriever face without having to turn around and see her. “See, this is why I stick with tattoos, I can’t stand needles and weird migrating metal parts.”

Weiss actually turned to look at her then, and made a point to then stare at her arms.

Yang huffed. “It’s not the _same_ , Weiss!”

“Oh yes, because being stabbed by a needle millions, if not billions of times to have dye marking your skin is preferable to a single stab,” she said.

“It’s completely different, I don’t even know what you’re talking about. I’m not the one punching holes through my skin,” Yang said. “Look, are you gonna play the drums or what?”

“Maybe if you’d stop being so-- so--” she struggled to find the word, tongue fumbling even more when Yang fiddled with one of her earrings. The taller woman motioned for her to continue. “Distracting! You’re being very distracting.”

“Am I? Oh man, I’m sorry.” It was just about the most insincere apology Weiss had ever heard. Yang moved her hands away and lifted her hips in order to sit on them. “Look, see? No distractions now.”

Weiss blinked at her. Yang nudged her and glanced over at the drum kit. With a click of her tongue, she turned to the drums and warily rose her sticks.

“... Not even one pointer?” Weiss asked before she started.

“Uh. Hit good.”

“Wow. Thank you very much for that excellent tip, you brute.”

“You’re very welcome, Your Highness,” Yang said.

Weiss reluctantly tapped on the snare.

“Okay. Okay. Fine. Just. use the foot pedal to go like. Duh, duh, duh-duh, duh, duh, duh-duh. Understand?”

Weiss frowned but did as she asked.

“Yeah, there we go.” She grinned and set her chin on Weiss’s shoulder, leaning against her. Weiss pretended to not notice her bust pressing up against her back. “Now, this is sort of like patting your head and rubbing your stomach at the same time, so-- wait, is it that or is it rubbing your head and patting your stomach?” She pursed her lips before she dismissed the thought. “Anyway, you just have to go like. Buh, buh, buh, buh, and so on, on the tom over there, and then on every fourth buh, you hit the hihat.”

At a considerably slower speed than when she was just playing the bass drum, she did as directed.

“Very good,” Yang encouraged, shifting over in order to mouth at her neck. When Weiss faltered, she said, “Go on, you can do it,” before she kissed her behind her ear. “You can be as loud as you want, we’re the only two in here right now.”

Weiss flushed all the way to the tips of her ears. “Oh, please,” she stammered, trying to continue drumming, “As if I’d really be affected by your clumsy advances.”

“Hey, I was just talking about your drumming,” Yang said. “I know you’re really focused on what you’re doing and couldn’t see me, so I’m gonna tell you right now that I shrugged. Kinda like. Hopelessly. Hey, what’s the word where you’re like… set on doing something, but you don’t actually want to do it?”

“Resigned,” was the immediate answer.

“Yeah. That one. I shrugged, all resigned. It was a good shrug, sorry you missed it.”

“Yes, I’m sorry I missed it, too,” Weiss said. She was actually a little sorry she missed it; Yang’s shoulders looked beautiful doing any sort of movement. Yang hummed,  shifting back in order to suck at the nape of her neck.

The drumsticks clattered to the floor -actually, one bounced off the tom before clattering to the floor, but let’s not get into semantics. Weiss’s hands occupied themselves with Yang’s hair instead.

“I’m guessing the sexual tension part of the night is over?” Yang asked, pressing a kiss where she had previously been sucking at.

“Yes,” she answered, carefully tugging at her hair -she knew how Yang was with it, she always had to be delicate.

“Oh, thank God. I’m untrapping my hands from under my fine booty, then,” she said, doing exactly what she had just finished saying she was going to do. She lifted her mouth from her neck and kissed her way to her jaw. Weiss met her the rest of the way, sitting sideways on Yang’s lap, and their lips brushed together, delicate, before she tightened her grip on her hair and tugged her in for a real kiss. Yang responded with a throaty groan, one arm curling around her waist, her other hand cupping her jaw and coaxing her in for a deeper kiss.

“I always forget about that thing in your tongue,” Yang said, pressing her forehead against Weiss’s and giving her an eskimo kiss. “Just sort of like _‘oh! hello!’_ every time, heh.”

Weiss rolled her eyes at that and Yag just grinned, kissing her again and loosening the knot of her robe.

“I wasn’t joking about not having to be quiet earlier though-- oh my God Weiss you’re wearing nothing under here?” Weiss was pretty sure Yang had just choked on her saliva.

“I sleep better with nothing on. I thought you knew this already,” Weiss explained, holding back a gasp as Yang shifted back to her neck and peppered kisses there.

“I just thought you were lazy and didn’t want to get dressed after we. Y’know. Made love,” Yang said, and Weiss let out a derisive snort at her phrasing.

“We have sex, Yang. We’re not in a harlequin romance novel,” she said. Yang opened her night robe completely, and she nipped at her collarbone before drifting further downwards. When her mouth found one nipple and she circled her tongue around her piercing, Weiss let go of her hair and found purchase on her shoulders instead.

“What if I _wanted_ to be a bodice-ripper, Weiss?” Yang grinned up at her before sucking on her nipple, her free hand cupping her other breast and squeezing. Weiss could feel Yang’s shoulder muscles shift under her fingers as she made herself more comfortable. “Okay, wait. This stool? Great for drumming, not so great for sex. Lemme just--”

Weiss reached in back of her and gripped one of the toms. She leaned away from Yang, settled both her arms on the drumset. Yang coughed and cleared her throat.

“Oh. That works,” she said, as Weiss wrapped her legs around her waist. “Just don’t punch a hole through my drums when I… Rock your world.”

Weiss groaned and rolled her eyes so hard her entire head reeled back. Yang just chortled and drew patterns on her stomach before leaning over and pressing a quick kiss on her lips.

“Is it alright if I just get on with it? I don’t know how long you can stay like that, anyway,” Yang asked, nosing her neck.

“Yes, yes,” Weiss answered, arching her back. Her breath caught in her throat when Yang’s hands landed on her thighs, squeezing there and spreading her legs a fraction of an inch further. She swiped the flat of her tongue over one of her nipples, a smirk on her lips as she gauged her reactions. Her thumb brushed over her clit and Weiss let out a cry, hips bucking for a surer touch. “I thought you said you were going to get on with it,” she breathed.

“Oh, well. That was before I remembered how fun it is to _not_ get on with it,” Yang answered, her free hand shifting up to thumb at her hipbone, and her index and middle finger tugged at her belly button piercing. Weiss held in a snort of laughter, her grip on the drumset tightening. “Oh? Ticklish?”

“Yang, no--” she cut herself off with a loud, wheezy bark of laughter when Yang tugged her piercing again. “Stop, oh my God, Yang, you always do this-- do not blow a raspberry on my stomach _we’re supposed to be having sex_ \--”

“Well, you wouldn’t let me be a bodice-ripper,” Yang mused, grinning against her skin and staring up at her. She stilled her movements and Weiss caught her breath. She pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the skin just below her breast, thumb circling her hipbone again. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, although, once again, she didn’t sound very sorry at all. Still, she was doing that thing where she looked like a wildly attractive and slightly repentant golden retriever -not that, Weiss backpedaled, animals were attractive-, so she mumbled an acceptance of her apology in return. Yang hummed, observing Weiss for a few moments. Her fingers traveled further south.

“You know, I was thinking,” Yang started conversationally, brushing her thumb over her clit and smiling at the gasp she got in response, “You think I could play one-handed right now? The drummer for… I think for Def Leopard, he lost one of his arms, still plays the drums. You think I could do that?”

Weiss whined. “Could you not-- not talk about this right now? I don’t think this is. That this is-- oh,” she paused, grip on the drums tightening as Yang slipped a finger in her. “That is this an appropriate topic of conversation right now,” she managed to finish, forcing it out in one single breath.

“No, like, what if I just picked up a drumstick right now and started trying to play?” At the glare she received from Weiss, she just laughed and said, “Calm down there, I’m not gonna _actually_ do it.”

“You were thinking about it, I know that look in your eye,” Weiss said, rolling her hips against her hand. “The sort of look that messes up our sets.”

“Okay, that was _one_ time, every other time I’ve tried something new the fans love it,” Yang grumbled, shifting her hand in order to add another finger.

“Yang--”

“I’m not gonna do it, I just told you.”

“No I’m-- I think the drumset’s slipping,” Weiss said, and Yang glanced around her, brows furrowed. When one of the toms creaked warningly, Yang let out a yelp and wrapped her free arm around her waist in order to tug her up and away from the instrument. Weiss gasped at the change of position, effectively sitting down on Yang’s hand. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry--”

“It’s fine,” Weiss interrupted, setting her hands on Yang’s shoulders and rolling her hips. “Would be better if you moved your hand instead of-- of making me do all the work.”

“Right,” she said, crooking her fingers and moving her hand so that when Weiss rolled her hips she could grind against her palm. “Better?”

Weiss groaned, quiet and breathy, and managed a quiet, “Yes, thank you.”

Yang smiled at her politeness, nudging her nose against her neck and pressing her lips to her clavicle. After making sure Weiss was stable, her free hand moved from her waist to cup her breast. She flicked her thumb over her nipple and mouthed at her jaw. She coaxed her into a kiss just as her fingers began to properly meet the rolls of Weiss’s hips, getting into the rhythm. Weiss gasped against her mouth, one of her hands moving up to cup her jaw while her other tightened its grip on her shoulder. She broke the kiss in order to groan when Yang squeezed her breast and crooked her fingers.

“Oh,” was all she was able to manage as Yang picked up the pace and kissed her way to her ear, open-mouthed and sloppy. She tilted her head up for her and Yang sucked at the spot below her ear, stopping to grin when she gasped. Weiss stroked her cheek with her thumb and Yang turned her head in order to nip at it. Then, nosing at her ear, she closed her lips around the finger and sucked. Weiss knit her brows at that and Yang grinned, swirling her tongue around the pad of her thumb.

“Is it weird? I can stop,” Yang mumbled around what was in her mouth, glancing down at Weiss’s hand, one thick brow raised inquisitively.

“No, no, it’s f-fah--” she paused, squeezing her eyes shut and letting out a sharp gasp when Yang shifted her hand’s position and pressed her palm up, “fine.”

Yang hummed and leaned against her hand, moving her own free one up to cup Weiss’s jaw. She tugged her in so she could press her forehead against hers and shifted pace again, this time slowing down. Weiss whined and Yang released her thumb in order to kiss her, breaking apart to say things like, “that’s it,” or “yeah, like that,” before kissing her all over again, and Weiss could only moan and groan, trembling all over.

When she came, she barely even realized it was actually happening, the buildup being so gradual. Her nails dug into Yang’s shoulder and the flesh behind her ear, surprisingly quiet as she jerked her hips and sloppily returned whatever kisses the other woman initiated before deflating and leaning against her. She tucked her head under Yang’s chin and pressed a quick kiss there, earning a quiet chuckle and a brush of her knuckles over her ear in return. Yang made to pull out but Weiss whined and rocked her hips.

“It’s been nearly two weeks,” she said, both of her hands wrapping around Yang’s forearm to keep her in place as she straightened, still not fully recovered. “Between writing and-- and Blake and Ruby, we haven’t had.” Weiss ground down particularly forcefully and she threw her head back to gasp. Yang had to press her hand to the small of her back to keep her from falling backwards. “We haven’t had some time for ourselves.”

“Wha-- oh. _Oh_ ,” Yang said. “Okay. I just didn’t expect you to be so. So.” She hesitated, brows furrowing. “Eager. For a second round, I mean.”

Weiss only hummed and tightened her grip on her forearm, teeth pressing into her lower lip as she stifled the noises she made and increased her pace.

“You don’t want me to help out?” Yang asked, thumb brushing over her shoulder blade.

“No, no. I want to do it myself,” she glanced over at Yang, her own brows lowered in concentration. “I want you to watch.”

Yang tilted her head back, a quiet grunt escaping from the back of her throat. Weiss seemed pleased by the intensity of her stare, and she released one of the grips on her arms in order to touch her own breast, breath catching in her throat when she flicked her thumb over her nipple. Yang whined, gritting her teeth as she watched her. Her breath came out in deep puffs through her crooked nose as she watched her, and Weiss arched her back and rode her fingers even more forcefully at her reaction.

“Weiss,” Yang said, her name rumbling in her chest. Weiss’s grip on her arm tightened even more, nails digging into her skin, and Yang flexed her arm to keep from moving her arm to help her out. She sucked in a breath as she watched Weiss twirl one of her nipple piercings between her index finger and thumb, and Weiss let out a quiet groan.

“Curl your fingers,” she said, and added, “please.”

“Yeah, yes. Yeah,” was all Yang was able to manage, doing as she asked. Her breath came out of her mouth, now, chest rising and falling at an increasing frequency as she watched the woman on top of her ride her fingers. She licked her lips and watched her expose her neck, pale hairs sticking to the side of her face from her sweat.

Weiss managed a few more bucks of her hips before she groaned and said, “I’m close, touch me,” and Yang shifted forward, pumping her fingers in and out of her and clamping her mouth on her shoulder. Both of them let out their own noises of approval, and Yang sucked hard on the spot before circling what would become a mark later on with her tongue. It didn’t take much more than that before Weiss was coming a second time, loud, her hips choppily rolling against Yang’s hand. Yang bumped noses with her and groaned, peppering kisses at the corner of her mouth before Weiss shifted her head and kissed her full-on, neither of them the least bit exhausted.

Yang pulled out of her and this time Weiss didn’t complain, and Yang pulled away from the kiss in order to lick her fingers clean, breathing ragged. Yang wasn’t going to romanticize it, her fingers definitely tasted like a vagina. Not that it wasn’t unpleasant, it just didn’t taste like the sweet nectar described in the books Blake read in her spare time. When she was done, Weiss tugged insistently at her undershirt and Yang readily complied, pulling off her sport’s bra at the same time with a little more fandangling. Weiss cupped her breasts, one in each hand, and Yang groaned, turning her head to the side and biting down on her lower lip. Yang curled her fingers around one of her wrists and guided it down to the front of her basketball shorts slipping her eyes shut and moaning when Weiss readily pressed against her there.

Weiss shifted down on the floor, on her knees. Yang’s eyes flickered with the realization of what she was doing, and she let out a throaty groan in response, her free hand finding Weiss’s on her breast. She twined their fingers together and pressed her lips to them, and Weiss thumbed at the tattoo above her hips and gave a kiss of her own at her navel. Yang sucked in a breath at that, abs tensing and defining themselves, and Weiss hummed and tugged at her shorts in response. She stepped out of them and placed their still-twined hands on her thighs.

She let go of her wrist and brushed her fingers over Weiss’s face instead, running her index and middle fingers over her lips. Weiss cautiously took them into her mouth and sucked on them. Yang groaned and pulled them out when they were sufficiently wet.

“Watch me, now,” Yang mumbled, eyes lidded over, moving them the short distance from Weiss’s mouth to between her own thighs. She got both fingers in at once, tossing her head back and groaning. She set an easy pace and Weiss shifted closer. Pressing her lips to the inside of Yang’s thigh, her grip on Yang’s hand tightened. Yang squeezed back and smiled down at her before she must have crooked her fingers just so; her brows furrowed and her eyes squeezed shut, and she let out a low keen, mouth hanging open. Weiss held back a noise of her own at the sight, instead choosing to bite down on her thigh.

Weiss paused, however, when Yang bent over, still keeping pace, and lifted their twined hands in order to kiss at it as she had done earlier, gasping and moaning against them. “Yang,” she murmured, barely above a whisper. Yang must’ve still heard it, one eye opening in order to glance down at her and nudge affectionately against her hand. “Yang,” she repeated, and the woman slowed down, paying more attention to Weiss. Weiss paused, catching sight of Yang’s abs flexing as she breathed in and out, even more defined than usual from her being bent over. “I want to touch you.”

Yang hesitated, frowning for a moment. Then, with as little grace as usual, she pulled her fingers out -letting out a quiet gasp at the sensation- and tucked her own hair behind her ear with her pinky and ring finger before wiping her hand on her stomach. “Yeah. I just wanted to get warmed up, anyway,” she said, and Weiss stretched up in order to plant a quick kiss to her lips. Yang eagerly returned it, catching the back of her neck as she retreated in order to coax a few more out of her. “I mean, I wasn’t _not_ warmed up before, not after what you did earlier,” she added, lips brushing over Weiss’s, and Weiss kissed her again. “Plus,” she said, “my fingers were getting pretty raisin-ey, between your vagina and mine --ow!”

Weiss had smacked her bare thigh, interrupting her. “Shush. We were having a moment.” She flashed her the barest hint of a smile before she tugged away from her and kissed her way down her stomach, revelling in the low, pleased growl Yang made in response. She spread her with her unoccupied hand, ghosted her mouth over her clit before tonguing right below it. Sucking at one of her labia, she watched Yang’s face scrunch up at the sensation, already letting out ragged gasps.

Once she was sure she was properly warmed up, she used the flat of her tongue to lap at her clit. Yang groaned and jerked when her tongue piercing came into contact with it, which evolved into a steady stream of moans and wordless encouragement. Weiss reached over and grabbed Yang’s hand in order to place it on the back of her neck, and Yang gripped there, rubbing circles at the base of her scalp. She let out a pleased moan in response and wrapped her lips around her clit, pushing two fingers inside of her. It was almost as though all of Yang’s body bucked at once and she let out a particularly loud moan, mouthing at the back of the hand she still gripped. Weiss twisted her fingers, hummed, and crooked them, and Yang let out a choked sob and jerked her head back, coming. Weiss kept at thrusting her fingers until Yang stopped meeting them, instead her leg reflexively kicking out and nearly knocking down one of the cymbals. She looked up at her, and Yang smiled in response, kissing the back of her hand again.

“Get off your knees, you’re gonna get carpet burn,” she said, tugging her up by the neck. Weiss stood on shaky feet and Yang hummed, pressing her face against her stomach with a sigh. She tilted her head up to look at her, grinned again. “Hey, you.”

“Hey yourself,” Weiss responded, brushing her fingers through her mane of hair. “Do you need another? It’s only fair--”

“Nah. Don’t worry about it,” Yang said, shaking her head with a yawn. “C’mon, sit on my lap. We can cuddle a little before we have to go to the bathroom.”

“Very romantic,” Weiss said, sitting down on one thigh and letting herself be tugged into another kiss.

“I dunno about you, but I’d rather not get a UTI from not cleaning myself out properly, thanks.” She kissed her temple and wrapped her arms around her waist, and Weiss settled her head on her shoulder. She reached over and placed one of her hands on Yang’s breast, idly squeezed there. Yang gasped. “What’re you doin’?”

“I didn’t touch them enough,” was all Weiss said, and Yang let out a cross between a laugh and a sigh. “Would you like me to stop?”

Yang shook her head. “Mn, no. Feels nice. Could you-- ah. Pinch a little?”

Weiss did as she asked, kissing at her neck, and Yang’s gasps morphed into quiet groans.

“Weiss. Weiss-- oh, fuck,” she tilted her head back to give Weiss more access to her neck, back arching against her hand. “Are you trying to get me back in the mood?”

“One more. It’s unfair that I got two,” Weiss said; Yang just laughed in response, cut off by one of her moans. She flicked her thumb over her nipple a final time before tracing her tattoos down back to her navel. “That is, if you don’t mind.”

Yangs hips bucked and she whined before managing, “I don’t mind. Like at all. Was just being noble and strong when I said no. Y’know. Like how I usually am.”

Weiss scoffed. “Oh, yes. The image of chivalry,” she said, brushing past her pubic hair. Yang shifted, spreading her legs wider to give Weiss more access.

“What if I --yeah, no just, I don’t need fingers in me, just touch my clit-- what if I wore a suit of armor on stage, and like. Slayed a dragon before the show started,” Yang suggested, surprisingly articulate with Weiss’s hand on her clitoris.

“What relevance does that have to do with the rest of the show? At all?” Weiss demanded.

“Well--” She bowed her head, held back agasp in order for her to continue, “There’s no relevance, really. Just cool.”

Weiss snorted. “Where would we even find a dragon,” Weiss added before she mouthed at her neck.

Yang laughed, nudging her nose against Weiss’s temple. “I don’t know,” she said, pressing a kiss between her eyebrows. “Kiss me.”

Weiss gladly obliged, Yang cupping her face with both hands, hips rolling against her hand. Her hands shifted back and she thumbed at her ears. She bumped noses with her and groaned, and Weiss sped up, her unoccupied hand moving to cup her breast, rolling a nipple between her thumb and forefinger. This seemed to be a good idea, as Yang bucked her hips against her hand and arched her back. She tugged her in for a kiss -or perhaps Weiss was the one who initiated it this time, neither of them were sure who started what at this point- and Yang threaded her hands through her hair, sucking on her lower lip.

“Papier maché,” Yang said suddenly.

“What?” Weiss asked, furrowing her brows.

“The dragon. We can make it out of papier maché,” she suggested, grip on Weiss’s hair tightening when she found a particularly good angle to grind against.

“If you want it to breathe fire, that won’t work,” Weiss said. “Wait, why am I even entertaining this idea, we’re not having you in a suit of armor fighting a dragon, papier maché or otherwise!”

Yang whined, and Weiss wasn’t sure if it was because she was close or because she wasn’t able to fight a dragon on stage at a rock concert. Weiss wasn’t wondering for long, however, because Yang knocked foreheads with her and groaned, hips jerking against her hand as she came. Weiss reeled back from the action and probably would have fallen off her perch if Yang’s hands weren’t still knuckle-deep in her hair.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Yang said, immediately moving in to kiss her cheek despite her ragged breath. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” Weiss dismissed, pulling her hand away from between Yang’s legs, who caught her wrist and glanced over at her. Weiss frowned. “What?”

Yang just smiled and curled her lips around her fingers, thumb rubbing at the pulse on her wrist. Weiss let out a noise of surprise, and Yang just finished cleaning her fingers and spat them back out.

Weiss snorted. “Very sexy.”

“Thanks, I’ve been working on my spitting action,” Yang said, grinning and moving in for another quick kiss. “Okay. Clean-up now.”

Weiss huffed and slung her arms around Yang’s neck. “Carry me. It’s the least you could do, really. You kept me up.”

Yang laughed as she got up, but it was cut short by a yelp as her sweaty thighs unstuck themselves from the leather upholstery on her drumming stool. “Oh my God I feel like I just got waxed,” she said, wrapping one arm around Weiss’s waist to keep her stable while her other gingerly patted at the now-sensitive skin. “You should kiss it better.”

“I’m sure you’ll heal just fine without a kiss,” Weiss said, wrapping her legs properly around her waist. “Now bring me to the bathroom, what do you think I keep you around for?”

“As you say, your lordliness,” Yang answered, making her way to the bathroom at a leisurely pace.

“Also, you’re sleeping with me tonight,” she added, as Yang brought her other arm to rest on Weiss’s hips and draw patterns there. “It’s been chilly recently. You’re practically a space heater.”

“Sleeping like, actual sleeping or sex sleeping? Because I mean. Either’s good,” Yang said. “Literally everything you said could be innuendo, Weiss. You’ve gotta make your intentions clear, and right now their index of refraction is _terrible_.”

Weiss furrowed her brows at her.

“I paid attention in physics,” Yang said with a shrug. “What can I say, I’m a woman of many talents.” When Weiss just rolled her eyes, Yang grinned and flicked on the bathroom light with her head, every other part of her occupied. “Ow. Okay, go and pee, you koala.”

Weiss grudgingly clambered off of her and hissed when her feet hit the cold tiles. She sat herself down and rested her chin on the palms of her hands with a sigh, eyes already slipping shut. “... Do we have any more pizza pockets?”

Yang grinned. “Just one.”

Weiss just grunted and leaned over to press a kiss to Yang’s stomach. “Good.”

Yang threaded her fingers through her hair and said, “You know, since Ruby and Blake are gone for whenever for their zen writing expedition or whatever it is Blake called it, we can walk around the house completely naked. Like all the time. Don’t flush by the way, I’m going on right after you.”

Weiss let out a tired laugh and reached over for the toilet paper. It was Yang’s turn then, and she watched Weiss wash her hands. She made space for Yang when she finished in order to let her washed her hands, and Weiss used her own feet to make her way to the kitchen and prepare the pizza pocket.

“Don’t burn down the house,” Yang said, leaning on the door frame and watching her.

“That was one time, and I didn’t burn the house down,” Weiss shot back immediately, glancing over at Yang and suddenly remembering that the two of them were both naked. It didn’t really bother her; she had just forgotten. “It was only the toaster.”

Yang hummed, apparently unconvinced, and Weiss just sighed and pulled the now-cooked pizza pocket from the microwave. Weiss passed her by, food in hand, and Yang trailed behind her. “I distinctly remember the cabinets being scorched.”

Weiss just grunted and turned into her room. Yang rushed ahead, then, and she tossed herself onto the bed.

“Take me,” Yang said, in a high falsetto. “Forget about your hunger and sate your _lust_ with me.” Her hair pooled around the pillow, arms stretched above her head -one even draped over her eyes for the greatest effect- so that her abdominals were as defined as possible. She even smirked.

Weiss just smacked her stomach, and Yang squealed in response, immediately breaking the act. She sat up and made grabby hands at her, and Weiss just sighed and sat down between her outstretched legs. Weiss took her first bite from the pizza pocket as Yang circled her arms around her waist and bent down to settle her head on her shoulder. “I almost dropped my pizza pocket from that display,” Weiss murmured, and it was the closest she could have come to a compliment.

Yang just grinned and nudged her. “Awful waste of food.”

“Mm. If you hadn’t done that voice, I probably would have.” Weiss was already halfway done. “It’s those small miracles.” She reached up with her free hand to run her fingers through Yang’s hair, who pressed a light kiss on her neck as thanks.

“Hurry up, I wanna sleep,” Yang said, a yawn on her lips.

“Oh, _you_ want to sleep now? You’re the one who’s kept me up this long,” Weiss said, finishing off her pizza pocket anyway. “Still, I’m merciful, and tired, myself.”

Yang just hummed and nosed at her neck. “I wanna be the lil’ spoon tonight.”

“Alright.”

“Booyeah.” She lifted Weiss off of her and rolled onto her side, let out a pleased sigh when Weiss slung one arm around her waist and another wriggled its way under her neck. Yang loosely held onto her wrist and tugged her hand in for a quick kiss, and she nosed it as she murmured, “G’night,” and tugged the sheets over them with her free hand. Weiss hummed and kissed the nape of her neck and mumbled a good night against her skin.

This time, the drumming of Yang’s heart eased instead of inhibited Weiss’s slumber.

 


End file.
